My Escape
by MarikzGal4Eva
Summary: Ryou is alone. he writes poetry, trying to get through it. one day, while surfing the internet, his discovers a website with poems simular in meaning to his. Who is this person? this person who makes him not alone?
1. ch 1

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh, and I do not own 'Yahoo!' okay? But if you wish me to continue this story, past this one-chaptered possible one-shot, please leave a review and tell me! I also own this idea; ask before using any poems, or the basic concept.  
  
Note: bear with me, my poems wouldn't come out right in story format. PLEASE R&R!!!!!!  
  
"My Escape"  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Ryou had come home today, after a day of school, and placed his backpack quietly on the floor, next to his straightly placed shoes, and his jacket that hung on a hanger in the closet that he stood at. It was his home, yet he still couldn't escape all the pressure of school, and of his Yami. Ryou had one escape, though. He crept into the kitchen and prepared his meal, simple chicken and mashed potatoes from a T.V. dinner. Ryou was also benign enough to leave his Yami a can of beer and some raw stake to eat when he returned from his 'trips.' Ryou had no understanding of why his Yami needed to eat steak and beer all the time. He is after all just a spirit with his own body, or hypothetically speaking, a spirit body that one can touch.  
  
Ryou walked up the stairs making sure every step he took didn't let one of the floorboards loose. He needed to get them fixed, at least before his father returned from Egypt for the holidays. Ryou continued up to his room and shut the door nearly-silently as he headed over to his closet. He was glad to find his closet just the way he left it, no corpses or rats like he had before. He extracted a simple sweater and kakis and changed into them, folding his school uniform neatly then placing it inside his white hamper. Ryou sat on his bed sadly, then decided that since he had finished his homework during lunch that day he could reward himself. He picked up a white pen that had 'Ryou' written on it in simply beautiful silver calligraphy.  
  
In his nightstand drawer laid a book. However, this was not an average book. It was where Ryou wrote all his feelings, memories, pains, sorrows, and joys. Ryou liked to write fictions stories about princes in castle, and dragons that transformed into members of society. Anyone could easily think him childishly silly, but when you read a poem written by him; wow. You could imagine how he feels, and why he feels that way. You could picture this remarkable boy; tears flowing down his pale cheeks. You could picture his sky falling down on his miniscule universe. You could see him standing up to his object of hate. You could see how angry, yet sad he was.  
  
Ryou had more pains than that do deal with, though. His friends paid no attention to him, it was all about Yugi. Frankly, Ryou didn't mind, but he wished that someone would be his friend because they shared common interests; not just because he knew Yugi Moto, and owned a millennium item!  
  
Ryou collected his thoughts and sloppily wrote, expressing his loneliness:  
  
It seems that every day that passes,  
  
Every single day that passes,  
  
Every moment that's gone by,  
  
I just want to huddle up and cry.  
  
Oh how he hurts me, day after day,  
  
Why should I in this world stay?  
  
Why should I put up with his anger?  
  
Why, why with his towards me anger?  
  
It seems I am a stranger to myself,  
  
Just watching my other self.  
  
Why did Ra give me his item?  
  
Why can I not just fight him?  
  
No, no that would be wrong,  
  
And I am not at all strong,  
  
For I were to fight back,  
  
I'd just fall, back and back  
  
Sometimes I wish I could be invisible,  
  
But then friends can't see me for me until I'm visible.  
  
Ryou wished that he could let someone read his stories without the fear of being exposed to his Yami. That poem had channeled all his thoughts and relived them, so he decided to surf the net for inspiring poetry.  
  
As he searched yahoo, this title came up, "I hate you poems," and Ryou was more that surprised to find his fingers clicking the link. A page came up, beautifully digitally mastered. A title in a chilling font wrote 'I hate you' all over the dull background in blood red. It kind of scared Ryou, until he saw the poem written in another creepy font, it was stunning.  
  
My heart has many chambers,  
  
My mind has is just empty,  
  
My body has scars galore,  
  
And my memory scratches in time.  
  
To Ryou, it wasn't much of a poem, but it somehow helped him understand that even though Bakura abused him, Ryou could survive. After he had read that poem, it was clear that he wasn't alone. He decided that he could try writing another poem, just to express who he is:  
  
I'm the shy boy that no one can see,  
  
You see a flash of white, and it's me.  
  
Even around my friends, the story never ends,  
  
I just seem like for my friends, I have to bend.  
  
I'm so silent you barely hear me,  
  
Without my friends, here I wouldn't be,  
  
Instead my Yami I would have offended,  
  
And my life there would be ended.  
  
I realize this poem is sad,  
  
But while writing it, I'm glad.  
  
My escape, my ride to fantasy,  
  
Is writing, my road to fantasy!  
  
Ryou smiled, and then heard the door to his house slam sharply. 'Oh dear' he thought as steps trudged themselves up past his room. 'Not the whip again' Ryou silently thought, dashingly putting his poems away.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Please leave a review and tell me if I should continue with this story. Also, I have other one-shots that I would like to know if anyone wants me to continue. I hope you enjoyed this! 


	2. ch 2

Disclaimer: I do NOT own YuGiOh.  
  
Chapter 2: No One Has It As Bad As Me.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Ryou lay there, beaten and bloody, his Yami towering over him with a blood- stained "rose-thorned" whip. Every time that he was hit by it, it stung like fiery words and fiery memories and fiery 'up-in-flames' friends and family. Blood tainted the walls in the closet where he was being beaten, abused. His Yami shut the door and undoubtedly locked it from the outside. Ryou lay there helplessly.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!Two Hours Later, 6:30 a.m. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Bakura had opened the door and left, Ryou awoke and tumbled into the shower. After thoroughly washing the blood out of his tresses and the dried scabby blood off his skin, he changed into his school uniform, and took some Advil for the pain. He still had about twenty minutes before he had to walk to school, so he opened up his computer, after he saw to it that Bakura was no where in sight. He opened the internet, and playboy.com popped up. It seemed that Bakura had found out how to use his computer that would be why there is dried blood all over the keyboard and mouse. He exited, thinking that he should also clean this up today, but for now he decided to, for once in his short life, Procrastinate.  
  
His finger found their way to the poem sight, just like before. He now saw a small button that said, make comments as the bottom of the screen. He clicked and a screen popped up, asking for his email address and comments. He typed in his email, "ChangeOfHeartLightduelmoster.baka" and typed in his long comment. He exited and left for school, praying that the house wouldn't burn down, again.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!In San Francisco, California, America. The Writer of the poem (website)'s POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I stretch as I get out of bed, and slip my petite feet into my "Playboy" slippers. I am late to school, again. Most likely I will have detention, again.  
  
I arrive at school, way later than my normal lateness, and walk casually into the class, acting as if I had all the time in the world; and as if I wasn't late. Too bad, my teacher, I don't even know, nor do I want to know, his name, spotted me.  
  
"Detention, Ms. James," he said. If I had a dollar for every time a teacher had said that to me, well, I'd have a whole load of cash, plus more to use for my fireplace. That way, I wouldn't be so cold every night!  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AT Lunch, Ms. James (No First name yet)'s POV !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Lame Brain! Too bad she doesn't have enough brains to be called a /lame/ brain!" said a vain cheerleading blonde named Pricilla.  
  
"Shut it ms-Prissy!" I say, almost happy at the way she twitches at being called that.  
  
To my surprise, she slapped me, and as we bickered, a ring chanting 'fight' was formed around up.  
  
"Ms. JAMES!!!" yelled a voice, which I would recognize any day. She was our principle, and I knew her better than any trouble-maker. She picked on me, and always was on the side of the person who was really guilty. I guess she just hated me. No, not just, 'ugh!' hate, but full-out horrendous curse- word utter hate! And I hated her too, not for the fact that she was my adoptive aunt, but because she disliked me more than I dislike her. Oh, how like treats me like a piece of shit.  
  
Now I sit in her neat gigantic office as she yells at me about how much trouble I am in. I easily tune her out, and my mind goes to my website. It is the only thing that makes me want to pursue the challenge of living, the only way I can express my true self.  
  
I bet it no one has it as bad as me. . . . . .  
  
!!!!!!!Ryou's POV on the way to Domino City High School!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I bet no one has it as bad as me. . . . . .  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
Please Review, I need to know that someone likes this story! 


	3. ch 3

Disclaimer: I do not own YGO, but I do own "Ms. James" and "Zach" and both faux email. You may use one if you wish, but you MUST ask me!!!!!  
  
Notes:  
  
My longest chapter yet!! Over one thousand, seven hundred words!! Go me!!  
  
I still need a first name for "Ms. James" no one has given me ideas. Anyway, if you submit a name, I will surely use it somehow. And if your name is chosen for "Ms. James," then I will thank you with a plushie of you choice! And all submitters will get a personal thank you in the next chapter of "MY Escape."  
  
And my other stories need review too, so check them out, please!!  
  
Also, thank you to my eight reviewers so far, I continue for you!!!!!!!!!  
  
Chapter Three: Posers, Players, and Playing Hookie on Detention.  
  
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Ryou reached school, and began to face his 'poser' friends. They tried to stay his friends, but they had nothing in common with him. Poor Ryou was talent less in sports and fighting and had no knowledge of games and of true friendship. He sat in his chair and opened a novel about a prince getting rescued by a princess, for once.  
  
He thought it ironic that he liked this book. He was like a prince wanting to be rescued, but all the princesses didn't want to break a nail and were too frightened of becoming an acquaintance of the shy boy. Everyone either picked on him, posed as his friends, or (in the case of his Yami) beat him constantly until tears flowed from his chocolate eyes.  
  
Homeroom ended without an incident, and he headed to home economics. He truthfully dislikes this class. He saved the word 'hate' for his Yami. Within five minutes of attempting to cook vanilla bean cake crisps; Ryou had been burned several times. So now he was on his way to the nurse, and undoubtedly, his class mates were laughing behind his back.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Ms. James'" POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I sit in this stupid room. I don't know how many times I have had a day that I wasn't in here after school, but there haven't been many. This room is not a prison for me, but a place where the snoring of Mr. Yawnhouse helps me write my poetry, which I then place on my website, the only reason I am alive today. Today, I had my laptop with me, so I checked my review/hits on the site. One caught my attention immediately.  
  
! The Review   
  
From: Ryou  
  
Email: ChangeOfHeartLightduelmoster.baka  
  
Topic: I like your poems  
  
Message: I can relate to your poems, they touch me. I don't have a single talented bone in my body, but maybe you could give me your opinion on my poems and see if they are any good. Anyway, I like these, do you have more? You sound like a soulful person; I only hope that you don't write you true feelings, which would be awful!  
  
!End of Review  
  
'Alright' I thought, and then decided to give this person a chance, thought I wouldn't tell them the truth about myself. I wrote:  
  
!Email Reply to Review  
  
To: ChangeOfHeartLightduelmoster.baka  
  
From: darkbunnies668ihateyou.hop  
  
Subject: This is the writer of those poems that you reviewed.  
  
Message: Hey, I got your review. I would love to hear you poem(s). I am always open to anyone. How can you relate to my poems, you aren't abused are you? As for you being talentless, different people have talent for different things, you never know! You may think you're not good at poetry, but someone else may think you are a perfect poet! You could also have talent for something else! Thanks for the soulful compliment.  
  
Signed,  
  
Darkbunnies668  
  
!end of message  
  
with that I ended my message, ready to be released from detention in one minute, after all who cares if I leave only a mere two hours early. No one cares, right? No one would sure miss me!  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ryou's POV during lunch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I sit at their table, yet their conversation I am not invited to join. What posers. I want to go to the computer lab to check my email. I don't know why I bother, there will only be spam, nothing else. I don't know why I even check it. Everyone ignore me, so I won't have mail. Sometimes I think I'm hopeless. No true friends, yet I am in frequent acquaintance with a friendship-freak! I mean, Tea is nice and all, but she could lighten up al little. Every time she speaks, I feel even more left out. As for Tristan and Joey, they only think about girls and Yugi only about games. I fit into none of the categories, at least I think so.  
  
I am definitely not a jock or a cheerleader, not a popular kid either, I am not a nerd, nor a drama-king. I have my own category, but I just wish I had more friends. Some person who could share my interests, not make fun of me for unknown reasons! I have been teased and mocked for many things. None bother me so much, but when the make fun of my hair! That gets me really upset.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Ms. James'" POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I finally got out of my house, the second I walked in and shoved my backpack in a corner; I walked out to the non-soothing sounds of my adoptive parents fighting, undoubtedly over me.  
  
I turn the corner and walk strait into my fellow troublemaker, Zach. He is a little nicer than me, and is several grades younger. He has a girlfriend, and has gone further with her than I ever have. Speaking of that, I have never had a boyfriend, nor been kissed. I was never a fling, and I never have been danced with. Think you know me? Guess again, I am a party girl, but solo.  
  
Sometimes I wish for someone who won't run when the police come. Zach does that. I get caught solo, no one believes me. Zach's family is rich and 'perfect' to the outside world. Mine, well, isn't.  
  
He ignores me as he keeps walking down the alleyway with two girls. I know for a fact neither are related to him, nor are they his girlfriend. Speaking of his girlfriend, she is a preppy cheerleader, Capitan of the cheer squad, and all around bitch. Her prissy name is Pricilla. What a player Zach is. . .  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ryou's POV at his house, Bakura is somewhere . . . !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
My escape. . . I finally see it. After a long day at school with posers, my computer! I log into my email and find a letter to me. /me/!! I have an email, but from who? I click on the red icon and a screen pops up. The screen that shows the email from the poet on that website! She wrote back!  
  
!Email (again so Ryou can read)   
  
To: ChangeOfHeartLightduelmoster.baka  
  
From: darkbunnies668ihateyou.hop  
  
Subject: This is the writer of those poems that you reviewed.  
  
Message: Hey, I got your review. I would love to hear you poem(s). I am always open to anyone. How can you relate to my poems, you aren't abused are you? As for you being talentless, different people have talent for different things, you never know! You may think you're not good at poetry, but someone else may think you are a perfect poet! You could also have talent for something else! Thanks for the soulful compliment.  
  
Signed,  
  
Darkbunnies668  
  
!end of message  
  
'Talent for different things.' What could she mean?! I am too meek for anything bold, too scrawny for anything heavy, and too shy for socialization! She kind of does have a point, though. Um . . . what am I good at? I'll think about that later.  
  
I grab a washcloth from the kitchen and dampen it, after all Bakura won't clean the keyboard from blood himself! I wash the keys and they wash the cloth. The rest of the house is alright, so I decide to write a reply to the poet, maybe then she can tell me her name. I don't want to keep calling her "the poet," do I?  
  
! The email Reply   
  
To: darkbunnies668ihateyou.hop  
  
From: ChangeOfHeartLightduelmoster.baka  
  
Subject: This is the Reviewer of the Stories you wrote  
  
Message:  
  
Thank you for the advice on talent. You really inspired me. Maybe you could read my poems? By the way, my name is Ryou, what's yours? I enclosed copies of my poems, just don't copy them.  
  
"It seems that every day that passes,  
  
Every single day that passes,  
  
Every moment that's gone by,  
  
I just want to huddle up and cry.  
  
Oh how he hurts me, day after day,  
  
Why should I in this world stay?  
  
Why should I put up with his anger?  
  
Why, why with his towards me anger?  
  
It seems I am a stranger to myself,  
  
Just watching my other self.  
  
Why did Ra give me his item?  
  
Why can I not just fight him?  
  
No, no that would be wrong,  
  
And I am not at all strong,  
  
For I were to fight back,  
  
I'd just fall, back and back  
  
Sometimes I wish I could be invisible,  
  
But then friends can't see me for me until I'm visible."  
  
Then this one-  
  
"I'm the shy boy that no one can see,  
  
You see a flash of white, and it's me.  
  
Even around my friends, the story never ends,  
  
I just seem like for my friends, I have to bend.  
  
I'm so silent you barely hear me,  
  
Without my friends, here I wouldn't be,  
  
Instead my Yami I would have offended,  
  
And my life there would be ended.  
  
I realize this poem is sad,  
  
But while writing it, I'm glad.  
  
My escape, my ride to fantasy,  
  
Is writing, my road to fantasy!"  
  
If you have any suggestions, I'm open! And no, I'm not abused, are you? It seems like it.  
  
Signed,  
  
Ryou a. k. a. "Change of Heart Light"  
  
! End of reply  
  
With that Ryou clicked the orange send button, revealing two poems to the world. He heard the door slam and the drunken voice of Yami Bakura. He quickly closed the internet. And waited as his Yami's footsteps were heard coming up the old stairs.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Please review; I really would like feedback on this story!! 


	4. ch 4

Disclaimer: I had a dream that oompa-loompas were going to murder me because I didn't put the disclaimer. I do not own Willy Wonka (for the oompa-loompas) or YGO for this story. Happy? DON'T ATTACK ME!

ATTENTION READERS: I will be away at boot camp for this week, I updated for you, be thakful. You can thank me with reviews, PLEASE!!! I will need it when i get back.

Chapter 4: Mistake  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Ms. James opened up her email that evening to find a reply to her own email. The reviewer had written back and had included his poetry!  
  
'Whoa, he's talented,' she thought, writing a reply to the person.  
  
! Message  
  
To: Ryou changeofheartlightduelmonster.baka   
  
From: Dark Bunnies darkbunnies668ihateyou.hop   
  
Subject: Wow  
  
Message:  
  
Dear Ryou,  
  
You are not talent less!! I loved your poems, they were awesome! You are being too hard on yourself! I see we have something in common. Your first poem, it sounds like someone hurts you every day, making you want to cry. Does that person beat you? Abuse you? Hurt you physically or emotionally or mentally? It seems so. You can tell me. I can't do anything about it anyway. I don't know your last name or where you live, I don't know who does it, and you aren't pressured to tell.  
  
You can trust me, I will tell the truth to you. If you must know something about me besides my poetry, I will tell. My name is Crescent. It means 'creative.' My mom named me that when she was in her "artistic hippie" stage. It is funny to laugh about sometimes.  
  
What else can I tell you? I don't know. I am sixteen. My parents fight a lot. Can you relate to that? Or maybe you don't have parents, I wish I didn't.  
  
Whatever you want to confide with me, is alright with me, after all I could be halfway around the world. You never know.  
  
Crescent a.k.a. Dark Bunnies   
  
! End of message   
  
She clicked the neon green send button and returned to her ancient video games.  
  
! Ryou's POV, on the computer   
  
I open the email from the poet to find a compliment! And her name, it sounds so exotic. I kind of feel bad for her situation; both her parents fight with each other. But, at least she has both parents, and they are always there!  
  
I decide to wait for a day before I reply; after all, I should really be asleep. However, I cannot lie down, my back hurts worse than ever, and I think a thorn from the whip got ledged in there somehow. I'll just bandage the bruises and head over to Yugi's, but only after I am fully sure his Yami won't sense my pain!  
  
! Crescent's POV, in her room, trying to sleep   
  
All those words, they spin round me like verbs I only wish I had the courage to carry out. It is like they ignore me constantly, aspiring to be their own people. Instead I am stuck their child, one so awfully ignored. It is like all these hammers are trying to murder me, but the second they get too close, I break my hands keeping them away.  
  
"This is your entire damn Fault! You just couldn't keep. . ." I hear my 'father' say. He is more like a person who should be there, but never is. He argues and bickers with my 'mom' always blaming her or another for me. That is all I will ever be- a mistake.  
  
"Through the moonlit stars I see, All of us three together, All of us free forever, Through the stars I see. Happy smiles, And Joyful Tears. Holding heads without fears. All of us there together, As a family."  
  
That song is one I never was sung, only people that cared for one another could sing that to their daughter. I'm not a daughter, I'm a mistake. I can remember them fighting, like they never wanted a relationship with each other, only a fling. Maybe that is the reason I am such an outcast, I was never loved by anyone, ever. No friends, no family, no nothing.  
  
I am sick of it, they both won't just shut up! I climb out of bed and slip my feet into icy black boots. Who cares if I leave in my pajamas? They look like normal clothes, black fleece pants and a tight black tank top a little small for me. let me see what there is to do tonight? As if automatic, my fingers grasp a pony-tail tie in their clutches and attempt to tie my ear- length, spiky, black hair back into a half-pony, but they can't. I drop the idea as soon as I get it. the window's torn screen catches onto my hair as usual, but get untangled very quickly. I jump down the rose ladder and into the dark alleyway. Unfortunately, I had failed to notice that the voices of my mother and father had stopped, and the cling of the door had been shut.  
  
Lights black my view as a heavy bike of something crushes me beneath it, black clouds my view and my eyes begin to shut as I fight for consciousness, too late, two shadowed faces stare at me. one in hysterical tears that fall onto my face, the other almost as shocked. I fall into nothingness.  
  
Ow. . .  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ryou's POV, Bathroom  
  
Ow. . .  
  
I wish he wouldn't hurt me like this! 'Painkillers ahoy,' I think as I swallow the great pills of my present!  
  
Time for Yugi's! I grab a jacket and walk my way down the block and into the doors of the game shop, giving a quick greeting to Yugi's Grandfather.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Thank you for all your reviews! Please Review. And if one of you get a second, check out my website: 


	5. ch 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I so do not own Ozzy Osborne's "Dreamer." It is a perfect song to listen to while reading this! I do own Crescent, her parents, her doctor, her father's car, her friends, Tommy, and her cat! (you get the point)  
  
Notes: Ryou was added in a minute, so I centered this chapter around Crescent! Don't kill me!! And, I just got back . . . my arms ache!!!!  
  
Chapter 5: Japan?  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Hello. My name is Gary Morgan. I am your physician," he explained to me as is laid down uncomfortably on a stiff, plain hospital bed.  
  
I cannot believe my own father ran over me with his truck! As if he cared, he just kept going! The yelling I heard was my mother yelling after him. Like she cared.  
  
"You have a very badly shattered arm and a sprained leg and ankle. You also had a slight broken nose, but that was fixed already. Your legs should heal in two weeks, but your arm needs bone marrow and several other operations not offered in this city's hospital," he explained to me, each word making me laugh. Why couldn't he have just killed me? it would have been easier to bury me in a hole than to fly me somewhere to have idiot people with instruments cut me up then sew me back for a ton of money!  
  
"So. . ." I trailed off, wondering what he would say.  
  
"You need to be transferred to Japan, their doctors are the best with children of your age," he replied, checking something on the tattered clipboard he was holding, "we can still save your arm."  
  
SAVE MY ARM?! This was a matter of losing an appendage? This can't get worse. How will my dumb mother pay for a trip to Japan?! Gr. . .  
  
"Your mother left us two dollars, fifty cents, a gum wrapper, a paper clip, and something I can't mention. Her instructions were to give you as much care as those items could buy you. Then, she left. We haven't heard from her since," he continued, handing her all the items that weren't money. Great, now I was on my own.  
  
"Is there any way for you to give me the operation, and anything needed, and I shall work to pay you back? Kind of like a loan?" I ask, after all my future, as cruddy as it will be, doesn't need to have only one arm!  
  
"We cannot offer anything to those under eighteen," he countered, beginning an argument. An argument he got.  
  
After a while, "fine you can pay us back, just don't mock me anymore!" he whined. I could feel bad for him, if I didn't already need the entire bottle of aspirin, plus Tylenol.  
  
/Gazing through the window at the world outside/  
  
Geeze, I'm pathetic, I mean I took all those painkillers, but it still is bugging me. dumb mattress. Woa, the sun is just setting, I have never actually watched it. I was always too busy getting in trouble. Those are such ironic colors. Purple for my bruises, red for my blood, orange for the goodbye color of the truck, and yellow for the moronic doctor's hair. Ha! He though he could outwit me!  
  
/Wondering will mother earth survive/  
  
how will the world live on? I mean, my problems seem to be magnified, but only when I am not dreaming. This city, so complicated, like a labyrinth. I wonder what used to be here? Trees? animals? Whatever, they are all dead now, soon I will be too. Wait, what about Moon!? My poor kittie!!  
  
/Hoping that mankind will stop abusing her sometime/  
  
What are they doing? Those doctors? They just prolong life. If mother nature wanted us to die, she'd kill us with her eighty tree branches! After all, we killed parts of her off.  
  
/After all there's only just the two of us/  
  
Ryou! The boy with the poems. He seems nice, but then again, who knows? I don't know him at all. He is just a person with a big dream contained with writing poetry. It seems like he has similar troubles to me. I mean, my parents fight ignore me, and sometimes beat me, but would someone else have it the same? Worse?  
  
/And here we are still fighting for our lives/  
  
how much money will my operation cost? Thousands? I am in too deep. I'd rather lose an arm than die. . . why did I change my mind? I would give anything to meet Ryou, but what if he is connote and not empathetic?  
  
/Watching all of history repeat itself/  
  
I had a friend once. It was preschool and life was simpler. My parents still fought, but I didn't want to notice. A time when I was naïve to everything else. His name was Tommy, and he liked me for me. we played and had fun until one day he notice I had a bruise on my cheek (from my father, no doubt). He just ignore me, and eventually became my enemy. I wish I could go back and change it. I need a friend. I hope Ryou won't be like that. I can email him, so we won't meet face to face, and he won't see covered in plaster!  
  
/Time after time/  
  
Tommy, he grew up to become a victim of me. poor him, his locker got stuffed with sand, his books drenched with lemon soda, and his feet glued to the floor. All of this I did, but why? I guess I make true enemies, no matter what.  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
I can dream, though. A prince in shining amour will come save me from this, and I will ride off into the sunset in his car.  
  
/I dream my life away/  
  
I just realized something, I'd rather stay in my dream world, with princess and fairies, than snap back to reality, with doctors and parents, and haters, and suck-ups, and evil.  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
yea, me a dreamer.  
  
/Who dreams of better days/  
  
maybe it won't be so bad. I'll go through the operation and get better and pay them back. Then, I'll be in Japan and can start a new life!!  
  
/I watch the sun go down like everyone of us/  
  
that sun, blackness engulfs all those gorgeous, vibrant colors. Just. Like. Me. I had such a wonderful life and opportunity awaiting me when I was born. Mom, dad, school, people. They all messed me up. All that black evil and darkness engulfed my soul. Engulfed it and swallowed it whole, no p[art exposed to the outside.  
  
/I'm hoping that the dawn will bring a sign/  
  
maybe tomorrow will be better.  
  
/A better place for those Who will come after us .../  
  
I think I'll turn on the radio. Oh, Ozzy Osborne. A cool fellow.  
  
/This time/  
  
I think this song is called dreamer. Suites the moment.  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/I dream my life away oh yeah/  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/Who dreams of better days/  
  
/Your higher power may be God or Jesus Christ/  
  
/It doesn't really matter much to me/  
  
/Without each others help there ain't no hope for us/  
  
/I'm living in a dream of fantasy, Oh yeah, yeah, yeah/  
  
/If only we could all just find serenity/  
  
/It would be nice if we could live as one/  
  
/When will all this anger, hate and biggotry .../  
  
/Be gone?/  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/I dream my life away/  
  
/Today/  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/Who dreams of better days/  
  
/Okay/  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/Who's searching for the way/  
  
/Today/  
  
/I'm just a dreamer/  
  
/Dreaming my life away, Oh yeah, yeah, yeah/  
  
ow, my arm! I hate accidents that were on purpose! I hope those Japanese doctors can fix this!  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!Ryou  
  
Yugi's would be a bad idea now. His Yami would sense fear or something.  
  
Please Review! 


	6. ch 6

Hello! Hello! Guess what, I finally have an idea for this story's end. It should end in about five or so chapters!!  
  
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
Chapter Six: They have met, but don't know it!  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
And the moon shines beyond the earth,

Giving off its light to others

That's how I feel,

A person missing the light.

"GR!" I growl to myself. I hated flying in airplanes.  
  
"Could you please be quite, dearie? Other passengers are trying to sleep, why don't you try that?" she sweetly prodded. In truth, she had already said that five times in the past hour, along with giving me warm milk as a drink when the cart came around.  
  
I ignored her and turned to a new sheet of paper from the abandoned house I used to live in. the doctor sold it in order to pay for my surgery. He let me keep a few things, but unfortunately, my computer was not among these items.  
  
But, my dairy, a few pens, and a photo of my biological mother. He also gave me a set of clothes from his daughter, who grew out of them. My clothes were almost torn beyond recognition.  
  
"We'll be landing soon," I heard a stewardess say behind me.  
  
"Good! That brat over there," I could sense the lady from before was pointing at me, "is so stuck up and stubborn, not to mention rude!"  
  
I gazed downwards like an ashamed child who has done something wrong.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Bakura! Please stop," Ryou begged, blood beginning to bubble out of his mouth as Bakura kicking him in the ribs yet again.  
  
"NO! you weak, pathetic, white mouse!" his Yami growled, reaching towards his back pocket, which Ryou knew held his knife.  
  
Ryou shuddered and screamed and the knife was brought down on his arm, again and again, until there was so much blood on his arm, that skin was gone from view.  
  
His vision danced, and his thoughts slowed into a murmur, he collapse onto the floor. The phone rang, and not a second later, the phone line was cut. Bakura walked out, clean, and strolled over to Marik's, hoping he didn't miss and fun Malik torture.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
The hospital walls were white as eggs, and it terrified her. Hospitals were never her place, and (come to think of it) neither was anywhere else.  
  
My arm was throbbing dully, that medicine was working almost perfectly.  
  
I hear yells and a couple shouts, then a doctor entered, followed by a stretcher. On the stretcher, an albino boy lay quietly, he was covered in blood almost dried. The doctor and a few nurses began wiping him down with washcloths, then the doctor inserted an I.V. (it stands for inter-venial) into his arm. Just like me, his arm was twisted and cut up beyond recognition.  
  
The doctor caught me staring, he walked up and said, "He needs the same operation as you, do you mind sharing a room with him?"  
  
I looked over, and had a full view of his pale face. The nurses had went away, and the doctor saw me rather curious.  
  
"Crescent?" he asked, handing me a pill.  
  
"Yes?" I replied, swallowing the pill dry.  
  
"His name is Ryou, he could awake at any time. Could you do me a favour and explain to him where he is? Make him comfortable?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
The doctor left, his white lab coat flying back a little bit.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Though it pained her arm, she lent over and grabbed her notebook. She flipped past the bunch of poems she had written, and found the one she had begun on the plane. She decided to continue. And the moon shines beyond the earth, 

Giving off its light to others

That's how I feel,

A person missing the light.

But, no!

I am not alone!

That's how I feel,

Connected to another!

The sun shines on everyone,

The sun is reality,

That's how I feel,

Reality gone wrong.

The moon is luck, love, and living life,

It doesn't shine on me,

That's how I feel,

No luck, no love, no life.

This is me,

A lightless dark,

This is now I feel,

No white in sight.

She closed the notebook when she heard rustling, the albino next to her was murmuring and moaning.  
  
"Are you alright?" she asked, still unsure of how awake the boy was.  
  
"Who's that?" he asked, sitting up. His eyes fluttered open with some difficulty, and he looked around nervously.  
  
"Uh, hi?" she said awkwardly, noticing that his eyes were indeed chocolate brown, and he wasn't an albino after all.  
  
"Who're you?" he asked, shaking slightly.  
  
"I'm your room mate. You're at Domino City Hospital," Cresent replied, placing her tattered notebook on the table next to her bed.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, frightened.  
  
"You're hurt, and require an operation similar to mine. I'm supposed to comfort you and stuff, but frankly: I don't know quite how to," she explained, sitting up. Her arm throbbed and protested, but she did indeed sit up. When he tried to do the same he gritted his teeth, and she told him to stop.  
  
"How long have I been here for?" he asked, looking at the digital clock.  
  
She paused for a minute and said, "About two hours."  
  
"Does my father know I'm here?" he whispered, apparently talking normally had made him tired.  
  
"I'm not sure, but you need rest, so go ahead and sleep all you want," Crescent added.  
  
"Okay. . ." he nodded off into dreamland. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	7. ch 7

Disclaimer: see previous chapters. Please Review, I finally updated!!!

Chapter Eight: I'll burn your eyes out!

"Are you feeling better?" asked Crescent, picking up her fork. She dug into her breakfast: scrambled tofu with marinade. She was vegan (practically the only thing her "parents" let her eat was a head of lettuce- if they were being kind), and they made it especially for her.

"Sure," Ryou answered, lifting his fork carefully and picking at his eggs.

"What happened to you? No specifics needed," Crescent ventured, finishing her food and dropping her fork. She pushed the table away from her.

"I had my arm sliced open continuously by a manic," he said sarcastically, even though he didn't mean to say it. ugh! His head hurt a lot.

"Morning! I see you're alright Mr. Ryou," the doctor laughed, checking off something on the boy's clipboard.

'Ryou? That sounds familiar to me somehow,' Crescent thought.

"Crescent, how are you feeling? We almost have everything for your operation. Do you need more Tylenol?" he asked, marking something on her clipboard as well.

"No, I just had some, but could I request a couple moments of access to a computer?" she asked.

"Sure? How about this afternoon? If Ryou is feeling alright, he could join you," with that the doctor left.

"Do you enjoy poetry, Ryou?" asked Crescent, wondering whether this Ryou was the one that had written to her.

"Yes. In fact, I write poetry too!" he smiled. However, because of his headache, he did not notice the familiarity of her name.

"As do I!" she smiled, knowing deep down that this could be, and probably was the Ryou she had exchanged emails with. What are the chances? I guess fate has a new attitude to them both!

Ryou needed more rest, and soon fell asleep again, his eggs barely eaten. Crescent couldn't help but stare at his perfect face. It was pale and beautiful, his nose perfectly set in the center of his face, and his eyelashes long and feminine. He was so peaceful and gentle- it seemed, why would anyone hurt him?

Suddenly, the door banged open, but all Ryou did was mumble and turn over. Crescent, on the other hand, had to double-take. The man standing in the doorframe had snow-white hair, harsh chocolate eyes, and a sexy muscular build, but by first impressions; he looked like Ryou!

"What are you looking at, bitch?" the man barked, and walked over to Ryou's sleeping figure.

Crescent thought it was the most peculiar thing, but the man stared at Ryou for a full twenty minutes and then got up and walked away. At the door he turned around and told Crescent, "Tell anyone I visited him, and I will burn your eyes out for staring at me out of the corner of your eye."

All she did was nod. Her curly ponytail bounced up and down.

About two hours later, Ryou awoke with a sigh.

"Feeling better?" she asked, ringing for the doctor.

"Thank you, Crescent," the doctor said, beginning an examination of Ryou.

"Are you up to a little fun?" he asked Ryou, ringing for the nurse. Ryou smiled, showing white teeth.

The nurse transferred them both to wheelchairs and took them into a room labeled computer recreation room 'Y.' Crescent assumed the 'Y' stood for Youth.

She at once opened her email, almost angry at the "NO New Mail" greeting. She sighed angrily.

"Something wrong?" Ryou asked.

"Not really, I was just expecting email from someone."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have to send a reply out to a friend of mine."

"Is her email darkbunnies668ihateyou.hop?"

"Uh, y-yes. How did you know?"

"That's MY email. And you are very talented Ryou."

They embraced as well as they could and at once began talking about what happened to them to get them here. They seemed to trust one another. Crescent told him about the motorbike accident, and Ryou spilt about his Yami's beatings, kind of explaining about the entire Millennium item thing.


	8. ch 8

Disclaimer: I do not own YGO. I do own my original characters, which I swear on Bakura's millennium ring that they are indeed my original creations.

Note: I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but i am not feeling too well today.

Chapter Eight: The Truth Begins to Unravel

A total of five days had passed since they realized who the other was. Nothing eventful happened, and Bakura never showed his face. They had shared with one another the real truth about their lives, and Crescent had shared her new poem.

Crescent awake to the sound of voices. One was harsh, the other was sympathetic.

"What the hell do you mean, we only have enough tools for one operation? We have two sixteen-year-olds in dire need for it!" the harsh one said.

She sat up, and looked through the fog-glass window at two figures. One was tall and thin, the other shorter and gangly.

"Well, whichever of them is more important, has more money, and could make something of themselves should take the operation," the sympathetic one reasoned.

She gasped. They were talking about Ryou and herself. 'Only one operation? That means one of us. . .will loose a limb,' she thought.

"The boy could get the operation. But, the young lady is way too far into the stages. If she doesn't have the operation, she'll die. I'd hate to tell her that." The harsh voice said, and through the window, the tall, thin man looked down at the floor.

"That is why you won't tell her until he is operated on and has left the hospital. Then she can die slowly, or we could 'accidentally' put too much anesthesia on her. I checked her records, she has no family, no money, and she technically shouldn't have the operation. I mean, the girl has a doctor overseas paying for it. she'll only work near forever to get it back after. So what's the point?" the sympathetic voice turned into a colder voice in seconds.

Crescent couldn't listen anymore. Her arm throbbed and her head spun. She soon fell into unconsciousness.

"Good Morning, Crescent," Ryou smiled. He began eating his egg and bacon omlette.

"Morning, yes. Good, no." (_my_ personal quote) she replied, grumpily, reaching for her fruit salad. All throughout the breakfast, she refused to talk.

One day later:

"Crescent, are you alright? You've been rather silent since yesterday morning. Did I do something?" asked Ryou at breakfast the next day.

"No I'm not alright. The doctor doesn't give a shit about me," Crescent felt tears well up in her eyes, but she held them down. 'I CANNOT cry. After all, what'll Ryou say when I die? That I cried, and _then_ died?'

"Crescent?" Ryou gasped.

All Crescent saw were coloured dancing lights over a white-light background before slipping into unconsciousness yet again.

Ryou panicked and called the doctor right away.

"Ryou, there's nothing I can do."


End file.
